Emma
by Ariadnerue
Summary: In which Emma learns about her grandparents, and how she got her name. Mother-daughter feels, oneshot.


Disclaimer: Once Upon A Time belongs to ABC

So. Once Upon A Time. I haven't loved a show this much since Pushing Daisies, and that's saying a lot because I really loved Pushing Daisies. This takes place after the second season finale, so you know... spoilers.

* * *

The Sea of Neverland was not very exciting.

There was no land in sight, just endless, still water in every direction. The sun was still below the horizon when they came through the portal, and the only sounds of the morning aboard the Jolly Roger were the sloshing of water against the hull and the creaking of old wood.

There was little wind, so they weren't making much progress, and Hook and Rumpelstiltskin had taken to bickering about it. Regina had merely rolled her eyes and excused herself below deck. She was obviously worried about Henry, and she wanted to deal with it alone. Snow and David quietly went about preparing the ship for what could turn into a long journey, following the instructions Hook tossed them between long shouting matches with Rumpel. But all the while they watched Emma.

The young woman didn't seem to know what to do with herself. She seemed to consider following Regina, but decided against it. She half-heartedly attempted to help her parents for a short while, but they had everything in hand and so she took to pacing.

It was something she had in common with her father, Snow noticed. He would pace when he wasn't sure what to do. Perhaps it was instinct, perhaps they both just shared a kind of energy that wouldn't allow them to sit still. But eventually, the instinct died and Emma came to a stop in the bow of the ship. She wordlessly slumped to the deck, leaning back against the bulwark in the shadow of the prow and resting her arms on her knees.

After that, she didn't move.

David and Snow shared a long look. They were both so worried for her, but they knew they had to take things slowly. She had called them Mom and Dad for the first time mere hours ago, and that was when she thought they were all going to die.

Emma just wasn't quite ready to be their daughter yet.

It pained Snow terribly, but she understood. What she needed right now was a friend. So she placed a gentle hand on David's arm.

They didn't need to speak, he just smiled and nodded in their daughter's direction. Snow kissed her husband on the cheek and crossed the deck to the bow. Emma made no indication that she noticed, so Snow just sat down next to her. And so they sat in silence as the sun slowly rose over Neverland.

Until Emma asked a question.

Snow turned and stared at Emma incredulously, sure she had misheard. "I'm sorry, what?" Snow asked blankly.

Emma shifted uncomfortably. "What was your mother like?" she asked. Snow blinked. Emma was avoiding Snow's gaze, her shoulders slumped forward and her eyebrows drawn down warily. She continued after a moment, her voice fragile. "I've been wondering. About… my family."

Snow had to fight every urge in her body to keep from throwing her arms around her daughter and crushing her in a hug. Emma seemed to be expecting it, as she appeared to be bracing herself. But Snow just took a deep breath. She blinked back the tears in her eyes and sat back against the bulwark.

"My mother," she began softly, a smile rising to her lips unbidden. She looked down at her hands in her lap as she remembered, and Emma glanced at her. "Your grandmother," she laughed a bit. "Her name was Eva. She was… and still is, everything I ever wanted to be."

Emma was looking at her now, but Snow kept her gaze on her hands, still smiling faintly even though she could feel more tears burning in her eyes. "She and my father loved each other so much. Everyone always said she was the fairest of them all, but that wasn't why they loved her. The kingdom loved her because she was _good._"

Snow paused for a moment, wondering idly if Emma understood what she meant when she said "good." The word was tossed around so casually in Storybrooke, but to her it had always meant so much more.

"She was honest and just," Snow continued at length, and Emma shifted in her peripheral vision. She must have recognized the slow, even tone of Snow's voice. She was crying. That was a skill Emma hadn't mastered, keeping her voice level when she cried. Her voice hitched and halted, but her mother somehow sounded more in control, more sincere through her tears. "And she wanted me to be good like her. She taught me that being born into royalty doesn't make you any better than anyone else, and that everyone deserves a second chance. She taught me how to lead like she did, with kindness and wisdom. She taught me everything I know."

After another long pause, Snow turned and met her daughter's eyes. Emma gave her an empathetic half smile, and Snow let out a quiet laugh. She reached out a hesitant hand and laid it on Emma's cheek, hoping against hope that she wouldn't pull away. When she didn't, a few more tears slid from Snow's eyes.

"I see so much of her in you," Snow said quietly, and Emma's eyes went wide. "You're strong like her, and proud."

Tears prickled in Emma's eyes, and she swallowed hard. Snow recognized the look, so she brushed some blond hair behind her daughter's ear and withdrew her hand. Emma couldn't look at her anymore, still not used to all the love and adoration in her mother's gaze, so she glanced away with a nervous laugh.

"Thanks," was all she could manage. Snow just smiled and nodded. "Why, uh…" Emma trailed off, trying to control her voice. "Why did she name you Snow White?"

Another question she hadn't been expecting. "I was born in an infamously long, cold winter," she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Everyone in the kingdom was tired of it, tired of the harsh cold and the heavy snow. But she wanted to lift their spirits, so she gave me the name Snow White. She knew the kingdom would love me like they loved her, so she made it so they could no longer hate Snow."

The two of them shared a look, and then they started laughing.

"That's brilliant," Emma managed through her laughter. "Somehow I'm not surprised."

They both sat back against the bulwark and let their laughter run its course. The sun was getting higher in the sky, and Hook and Rumpel seemed to have stopped arguing, so a sort of peace settled over the ship. The wind seemed to be picking up a bit too, sending a flutter through the sails.

Snow gave her daughter a long, measuring look which Emma didn't notice. They sat in silence for another few minutes before Snow made a decision.

"Your grandfather, my father the king, was Leopold," she began. Emma glanced at her, but she didn't stop her, so Snow smiled and continued. "He was the kind of man who didn't want more than he needed. He had a loving family and a prosperous kingdom, and he was happy."

Snow's gaze travelled across the deck and landed on her husband, dutifully taking directions from Hook to trim the sails. As if he felt her eyes on him, he glanced over and gave them both a dashing smile. The girls laughed a bit.

"Prince Charming over there," Snow began fondly. "Has a few names. Charming is the name I gave him when we first met. He told me his name was James, but that wasn't true." She met Emma's eyes again. "I know you've read a lot of Henry's book, so you know the story of King George and the real Prince James." Emma nodded, so Snow continued. "The name his mother gave him was, in fact, David."

Snow could tell Emma was surprised. She sat up a bit straighter, turning toward her mother. "Wait, so his Storybrooke name is his real name?" she asked doubtfully.

"In a sense, yes," Snow nodded thoughtfully. "Our kingdom always knew him as James. Only a few knew he was really a shepherd named David and the real prince was dead. And although it was a role he never wanted, he felt it was his responsibility to the kingdom to be their prince." She stopped again, just smiling at her husband as the boom narrowly missed his head and he made a threatening gesture at Hook. "But he was born for it, I think. The way people listen to him, believe him. He has such faith in people, which is why he's a great leader. I always told him he should tell the kingdom that he was David, not James, but he feared they wouldn't accept him and that I would suffer for it."

Snow shook her head softly, unaware that Emma was listening to every word with rapt attention. "He always puts me first," she said, almost to herself. Emma cleared her throat a bit and Snow gave herself a brisk shake. She looked back at her daughter with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, lost my train of thought." Emma just gave her an appraising smirk and shrugged a bit.

"Alright, alright," Snow laughed. She thought a moment before she continued. "David never knew his father, so there's nothing I can tell you of him. But I had the great fortune to meet his mother."

Snow's voice caught and she fell silent. Emma frowned a bit as Snow looked down at her knees. How much could she bring herself to tell Emma about Ruth? Clearly telling her about their family was improving her mood, keeping her mind off of Henry and Neal. But the day Snow met Ruth… the truth about the short time in which Snow was cursed, the sacrifice Ruth made, the miracle that Emma really was… maybe it was too much. Her resolve faltered, and against her better judgment, she wordlessly held out her hand. Emma took it without a moment's hesitation and squeezed.

Snow closed her eyes, holding back her tears and trying to take strength from her daughter. She hadn't even paused before she took her mother's hand, and she would never know how much that simple gesture meant to her.

"Her name was Ruth, and I knew her for a very short time," she said at length, her voice quiet. "David loved her so much, but he couldn't save her, and I know it still haunts him. She was killed by King George's men." Here she stopped again. That was all she could really bring herself to say. Perhaps she and David could tell Emma the whole story someday, but for now…

Snow squeezed Emma's hand and turned it over, holding their entwined hands up a bit.

"This ring was hers," Snow said softly. She saw Emma looking at the ring with a bit of a knowing smile. Emma knew that ring when Mary Margaret twisted it nervously on her middle finger, but now she knew it from Henry's book as the reason her parents had met in the first place. It was back where it belonged now, on Snow's ring finger.

"So that's the story of your grandparents," Snow finished, sitting up straight and smiling at her daughter. She tried to force the sad thoughts from her head, and she could think of one way to do so. "Well… unless you count Regina, who is technically your step-grandmother."

Emma grimaced. "That is something I do not want to think about," she said flatly, and Snow couldn't help but laugh.

They lapsed into peaceful silence again, and Snow could barely contain her excitement when Emma didn't let go of her hand.

"I don't mind," Emma said suddenly. "If he calls you Snow again instead of Mary Margaret."

Yet another surprise from her daughter. "What?" was all Snow could manage.

Emma gave her a look. "I know you've been using your Storybrooke names because you think it would freak me out if you used your real names," she said frankly. "And honestly, yeah, it would have initially, so I appreciate it."

Snow didn't think she would ever get over the fact that this woman, this perceptive, snarky, brilliant young woman, was her daughter.

"But now… now I'd prefer if he called you Snow," Emma continued thoughtfully. "That's who you really are. I mean… Mary Margaret was my best friend, but Snow…" Emma trailed off a bit. Snow realized she was squeezing her hand a bit harder than she intended and she loosened her grip, but Emma was lost in thought and didn't seem to notice.

Finally, Emma set her shoulders and looked Snow in the eye. "Snow is my mom," she said as firmly as she could. But her voice still caught a bit on the word "mom," and she couldn't keep the tears from her eyes.

"Oh," Snow breathed, eyes widening. She felt like her heart would burst if she didn't do something, so she reached out with her free hand and laid it on Emma's cheek again. She had to choke back a sob when her daughter leaned into her touch, and the next thing she knew she had thrown her arms around her and crushed her in a hug. "Oh, my baby," she cried, pressing a kiss to Emma's temple and burying her nose in her hair.

She felt Emma laughing and crying in equal measure, and it only made her hug her closer.

"I'm trying really hard not to freak you out here," Snow said in a rush, her voice muffled in Emma's hair. "But… but I can't help it. I love you so much, Emma. I love you more than anything in the world."

Emma laughed again and gently disentangled herself from her mother's embrace. Snow took her daughter's face in her hands and wiped away her tears with her thumbs. Emma reached up and held Snow's wrists, but she didn't push her hands away.

"It's okay, Mom," she said quietly, and Snow closed her eyes at the sound. Mom. She would never tire of hearing Emma call her Mom. But then Emma said something else, very quietly.

"I love you too."

Snow's eyes flew open to find Emma staring at her warily. Snow was floored. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out as she just blinked at her daughter. Emma made a face at her and she finally managed a faint laugh.

"Emma," Snow breathed, and Emma ducked her head sheepishly. "Emma… I've wanted to hear those words since…" She struggled for a moment, shaking her head a bit in disbelief. "Since the moment I found out I was pregnant with you." Emma glanced up to meet her eyes briefly, and Snow had to remind herself that this was real.

She was with her daughter. Her baby. Her Emma.

Snow closed her eyes again, trying to take in this moment and imprint it forever in her mind. She slid her hands down to Emma's shoulders, and they just sat like that for a few moments.

When Snow opened her eyes, it was to find Emma staring down at her lap. She was chewing her lip nervously, like she was trying to work up the nerve to say something. Somehow, without her saying a word, Snow knew.

"We're going to find Henry," she said, her voice low but firm. Emma's eyes met hers, and she gave her daughter a confident smile. "I promise." Emma nodded, but she didn't trust herself to say anything, so Snow continued. "And when we do, we'll tell him about his great grandparents, and we'll try to avoid the fact that his adopted mother is also his step-great grandmother." Emma laughed, and Snow pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I have one last story to tell you, okay?" Snow said quietly, lifting Emma's chin to meet her gaze. Emma nodded, swiping at the tears on her cheeks in embarrassment. "I'm going to tell you why I named you Emma." Emma perked up a bit at this, clearly curious. Snow smiled a bit and began.

"When I was a little girl, I got very sick. My mother stayed at my bedside for weeks, and my father called all the best doctors in the kingdom to try to make me well. Dozens of well-known medics answered the call, along with an old madman claiming to be a prophet. His name was Merlin."

Emma's eyes widened and she was about to interject, but Snow just gave her a look and she remained silent.

"The doctors could do nothing for me, so my father brought in Merlin. As you may have guessed," Snow paused, smiling fondly at her daughter. "He was actually a wizard. He used magic to cure me, but he never called me by my name. No matter how many times my parents corrected him, he always called me Emma."

Emma frowned, confused. Snow wiped the last of the tears from her daughter's face and laid her hands back on her shoulders. "When I got better, I caught him before he left and thanked him for saving me, and I asked why he called me Emma. He looked at me for a long time, and then he told me Emma was a magic word. It was what healed me, not his magic. So I asked him what it meant."

Snow gazed at her daughter for a moment, and Emma blushed a bit in embarrassment. Finally, Snow smiled, and she couldn't stop the tears that were running down her face again.

"Emma means whole," she said slowly, her voice low and deliberate like it always was when she cried. "I was sick because a part of me was missing, so he called me Emma and it made me whole. And he told me, one day, Emma would make me whole again."

Emma was speechless. Snow could see her struggling, her breath hitching as she tried to sort out what she was feeling. She looked down, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Snow gathered her daughter in her arms again, holding her close and letting her work out her tears. She glanced up to see the sails full of wind and the sun high in the sky, and she couldn't help but smile when she whispered in her daughter's ear.

"And you did."


End file.
